


30 Days to Taming Your Tongue

by JLKnox



Series: How Brio could actually work... [11]
Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Between the Scenes, Emotional Support, F/M, Feelings, Internal Monologue, So much talking, just a little smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:15:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23863642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JLKnox/pseuds/JLKnox
Summary: With a little bit of s3 eps 8 & 9, Beth finds that her non-verbal style of communicating with Rio comes into play with Dean as well.He's just bad at it.===“Was a real long…rough day today,” he says, voice rumbling against my ribcage. “Seein you in the park was a nice break.” He lifts his head up and smiles. “An seein you dressed like that …lifted my…” his head tilts to the side, “spirits.”Her eyes roll again as I lay my head back down. Hear her voice through her chest more than outta her mouth as she say, “I’m glad you liked it. I try to be helpful.”
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Series: How Brio could actually work... [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657150
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	30 Days to Taming Your Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry these get later every week.......quarantine is really messing with my ability to tell time and do things on a deadline.  
> Thanks for continuing to read!

As we wait for the freight elevator, his hand is on my back and the other holds the box. When it arrives, he puts that gentle pressure to move me inside, balances the box between the wall and his hip, pushes a button and leans against me for a breathtaking kiss that does not break for the entire way down. The look on his face as we break apart is completely of the cat who ate the cream. It makes me smile back involuntarily.

“S’good t’have you back, ma,” he says, hand back on my waist, guiding me back to my car. “Open her up.”

She get that snarky lil look on her face as she kick underneath the back a the van. “Zipping up my dress…loading my box…” yeah, her eyebrow go up on that, you know it, “How is it that you’re so helpful in some ways, but you can’t help me out with an extra day on a deadline, or making a drop when I’m busy?”

I thought he was in a good enough mood that I could ask, but his whole posture goes rigid and he pulls himself up to his full height. “You know why, Elizabeth. That’s professional. This…” the tip of his nose traces down my jawline to my neck, “is personal.” And suddenly my pussy throbs and my knees give out a little.

She ain’t like it but I think she get it. Her head nod against mine, but her breath come out heavy an frustrated. “I wish being with you bought me a little understanding. Or at least…trust.” My turn to be exasperated.

“Yeah, well if I ran a shop, maybe it would. An maybe yer co-workers would still resent ya for sleepin wit the boss.” His eyes flash hard but fall short of angry. “Ain’t no different in my bidniss, but with higher stakes. I let you walk over me, an my guys do the same. Had that trouble more than once…before.”

I see it slowly dawn on her, sinkin in. She ain’t like it but it don make it any less true. Especially now that she come back from shootin me, there no wiggle room, here. I get another nod. “Ok. Well, then you better tell me about this package you have for me.” She look back through the closed hatch, like her box gonta splode.

“Nah, ma… that ain’t the package. That’s a gift. I’ll drop you a pin. Go there tomorra, pick it up, bring it straight to me.”

“And if I do…10%?”

Infuriatingly, he shrugs. “We’ll see.” And without any other goodbye, he saunters off back upstairs.

===

Once Boomer is safely transferred – and I realize I’m going to have to spend my first cut on a new hockey bag and uniform – when I come home, all I want is a drink. Fortunately, the booze is on the counter; unfortunately, Dean is drinking. When he shows me the photo on his phone, I make some offhanded comment about closing down bars together and I pause.

“Can’t remember the last time I had that much fun…” _with you_ , I silently complete in my head, then pause to really consider. Rio and I ‘have fun’, but there’s not an overwhelming amount of room for _play_ , the way Dean and I used to. All things aside, he’s a goofy dude.

“And you wore jeans,” his sulk breaks my reverie.

“So?” He likes my ass in jeans. And I have cute boots. Had.

“It wasn’t that dress.” Oh. My god. Seriously? What is the hard-on about that ugly thing, anyway? I put on a little pout to try to smooth things over.

“I didn’t…need…anything from you,” looking up at him through my eyelashes usually works. In my head, there’s a list of every single thing I used to need from him: for him to be home at dinner to help with the kids, for him to pay the mortgage and the grocery bill, for him to be patient and supportive while I suffered postpartum depression, for him to be here as a father and a husband.

But he gets to have the last word and walk away, saying back over his shoulder, “I really wish you did…”

And if I didn’t need this drink so badly, I’d throw it at his head while screaming out that list. Instead, I remember how boring and frumpy that dress is and opt for sarcasm.

“It’s just a dress, Dean.”

And I pour my drink down my throat instead of down the back of his shirt.

==

The next time I know I’m going to see Rio, I make sure I don’t wear a dress.

But that doesn’t mean I won’t promote the assets I know he appreciates most, with what little wardrobe I have.

How she manage to look sexy when she all bundled up in Detroit weather’s beyon me, but when Mick hol his han out fer the envelope, I shake my head quick an get outta the Merc. He roll his eyes silent, but’s a good soldier an stays silent as he walk up to the picnic table an grab the boxes. If they was light, he’d say, but his mouth closed as I walk up. Gotta say hi to the girls, since she brung ‘em along.

Without trying, I can feel his hands…his tongue…everywhere his eyes look as he approaches, pulling a manila envelope out. His face stays stoic – almost, but with a slight curl to his lips – but his eyes roam over me, my chest especially, and his eyebrow quirks up just slightly. His pause is just a little too long, but we don’t say anything.

Still, that look will keep me going for quite a while. I might need to stay in the car by myself before going home.

Ah, she see me seein her. But feels good to not hafta hide that kinda appreciation.

If only Mick weren’t here.

I schedule a text for about an hour from now. _Damn, ma, you makin it hard…difficult…to focus on work. Bar at 2?_

==

It feels weird to have butterflies after all this time; almost a year of being on/off with Rio means I should be used to it, right? The attention, the attentiveness, what we do when we’re together.

I flutter around, getting ready for bed. If Dean notices that I’m still wearing a good bra and makeup to bed, he doesn’t say anything. Men are – Dean is – pretty oblivious.

But when the lights go out and I’m waiting for him to fall asleep, a different type of anxiety hits me in the dark.

It feels even weirder to be plotting his death with Annie & Ruby while enjoying his company. But like his crew, my squad thinks I actually tried to kill him. And I am pretty resentful that he’s taken such a major role in my little endeavor, so it’s not hard to sell that I do want him dead. At least with Max, it wasn’t too hard to make it impossible for him to kill Rio. I nearly sighed with relief when I saw his armless cousin … but with this referral, I’m not entirely certain how to keep playing both sides.

Truth be told, I’m pretty convinced Rio can’t be killed. So maybe the professional hitman will just scare him and make him ease off my business…go pursue his own endeavors and let us be kings of our respective kingdoms.

But what if he finds out it was me?

What if the guy actually succeeds?

Taking a few deep breaths, I tell myself that there’s no reason to think a guy who knows Max’s cousin will be any better at this than Max was. It’s a stupid lie and I spend the next hour trying to believe it. At least he hasn’t gotten in contact yet, and I can enjoy tonight if nothing else.

Lying on my back, I close my hands around my phone, set to vibrate an alarm at 1:30 so I can slip out.

I’d be lying if I said I got any rest before the pulsing in my hand went off. I grab my jeans by the buckle so it doesn’t clink, take my shoes and pad to the kitchen. Without turning on any lights, I finish dressing, grab my purse, and close the back door silently behind me.

When that mommavan pull up, I’m outside waitin, knowin she can’t be parked on the street. I gesture roun the corner an walk quick down the alley to a lil 2-spot parkin strip near the loadin door. She follow me an pull into the spot, my hands round her waist before she even got the driver’s door closed. That laugh she do bubble outta her mouth an it bring a smile to my face – can’t help it.

“Go on, get me inside!” she still laughin as she half-push me away.

It’s so weird to be greeted – almost needed – the second I’m out of the car. But when I spot the flecks of blood on his cheek and neck as while following him through the employee door, I can’t help but shudder. The job is still the job, I guess. I don’t know why it bothers me every time I reminded.

Oh, yeah, because Lucy.

Somethin changes while I lead her down the hall; I can feel her mood and her steps get heavy as we walk. Sittin down on the couch, on top of a blanket I got from the car, I pull her down on my lap an put my chin on her shoulder.

“Sup, ma? You ain’t glad t’see me?” Dammit, he picks up on everything. His hand goes up to the small of my back while he grinds up a little to demonstrate that he’s happy to see me. “Thought by that lil display you was puttin on earlier, you was askin fer an invitation…” The blush comes involuntarily and I smile, turning my head away.

“Well, I never know what your schedule is, so I didn’t necessarily think you’d be free. I just thought since I knew I’d see you…” She got that same sweater still on, so she lean in a lil but as hard as it is, I ain’t bitin quite yet.

“So what changed?” He chews on his bottom lip like he’s been doing lately, and I can tell from his eyes that he’s exerting a lot of control to not attack my chest the way I hoped he would. I don’t really want to talk, but I could use the distraction. I lean in a little more, breathing in so my cleavage brushes up against his chin.

Daaaaaamn, she trynta get me off this topic. After a quick nuzzle, I look back up, starin an silent, waitin for her answer. “You invited me here…don’t you want to see…” she bump her chest up against me again “…me?” I lick my lips without thinkin bout it.

He shakes his head as if to clear it. “You know you ain’t be here less I did.” My surprise is uncontrolled as he actually slides me off his lap. “But you ain’t all here wit me.” His hands slap his thighs once in an expression of frustration. “So what is it?”

I recognize the look she get when she thinkin fast. So whatever come next gonna be a lie; or at least part a one. My hands go to my knees an I lean forward to stand, but she puts her hand on toppa mine. “It’s hard. At home. Without my kids.”

“Damn, ma, did he take em again?” I think about the time Dean did leave with the kids, and combined with how much I miss them right now, it’s not hard to make the tears fill my lower lids. “Hey hey, nahhh, c’mere,” and he pulls my head onto his bony shoulder, which is super not comfortable. But when his arm circles my shoulder and I can feel the muscles tighten around me, I actually feel safe. Which is incredibly stupid. Oh my god, it is the stupidest thing ever. But tell that to reptile brain.

“Not yet,” her words quiet, an she scoot in a lil closer. “But they can’t be in a house with no furniture, so they’re at his mom’s.” Oh, I get it. I know it a place where the line blurred…but no way I can get her stuff back, no matter what I feel for her.

“Ya think bout sellin the house?” His words are casual, but there’s a hint of something under them. “Use the money t’start over?” It sounds almost hopeful. What could he possibly be hoping for? I shake my head against his shoulder and snort.

“Dean wants to go to Las Vegas.” I can feel her eyes roll even though the angle weird an I can’t see her. “Apparently there’s some advantage to spa sales there.” I try ta stay normal: same breathin, not tightenin my grip on her. Try ta keep my voice even.

“An whatchu think bout that?” His voice is too high. His body too still.

He doesn’t want me to go.

But he wants me to sell the house?

What?

She sit up real quick an lookit me, which make my arm round her shoulder fall weird. So I put both my hands in my lap an look at em.

It’s my turn to look at him until he answers the question I’m beaming at him telepathically, but he knows it so his gaze flicks between his hands and some point off to the left, away from me.

She just lookin at me hard enough to burn holes in my neck. Fuck, there something stupid about knowin somebody too much. “I think I burn in the sun.” She say every word distinct, with force, like she nailin somethin shut.

His head nods slightly, slowly. The corners a his mouth turn down. “Sorry ta hear that…I know you’d rather he be the one to support you. Legally.”

She snorts again an I have to keep a smile back. “Dean in a town where prostitution is legal? There’s no way I’d ever see a dime of his earnings.”

He’s really trying not to laugh, and I kind of love it. It’s so easy to tear Dean down. “Bet.” He does smirk now. “And it hard as fuck to wash out there. The security is insane.” His head shakes again.

“Too bad, because the likelihood of Dean actually supporting me is about as likely as me getting my things back from you.” At least she accept it. But it hit me that it put me an Dean on the same side of a bad equation. All the air rush outta me.

After he sighs, he sits silently for a moment. His head tilts toward me, then away, as he thinks something through. “So that’s why you down, then?” His hands curl into fists against the blanket on the sofa. “Cuz me an Dean both take from you?” I mean, he killed my friend…and someone else from the looks of it, tonight.

She ponderin again, an I know Imma get another half-truth. “Not gonna lie,” she start, but she ain’t gonna be totally honest, either. Do I deserve her honesty? Dunno, honestly. “That’s a big part of it.” She lean in, though, twistin round an layin back across my lap to put her head on the armrest. “But one of you gives me money,” she reach up an put her long, cool fingers roun the back of my neck, drawin me closer to her mouth. “And one of you is a very…generous…lover.” I see the smile curl her lips before they meet mine.

Our kiss starts like a question and turns into an answer, lasting long enough that he has to shift position so the angle doesn’t kill his back. He eventually trails down my neck to my chest, kissing the tops of each breast before lying his head down against them. “Was a real long…rough day today,” he says, voice rumbling against my ribcage. “Seein you in the park was a nice break.” He lifts his head up and smiles. “An seein you dressed like that …lifted my…” his head tilts to the side, “spirits.”

Her eyes roll again as I lay my head back down. Hear her voice through her chest more than outta her mouth as she say, “I’m glad you liked it. I try to be helpful.”

He turns his head again, toward me this time, kissing into my cleavage, muffling his voice. But I think he asked something about continuing to help, so I reach down and pull his shirt out of his jeans, lightly scratching his back from waist to shoulder. His moan is audible, but I feel it more, reverberating against my skin, resonating against my sternum.

She wrap her leg aroun mine an arch her back into my mouth, my hands movin ta tease her nipples before I help us both undress. It seem like she want it, but the entire time, it still feel uneasy. I nearly lose my nerve, twice, but each time, she got a smile or a hand an we both finish grinnin.

He hesitates, but lies back down, covering me with his warmth. “You good?” comes a mumble, and I nod. Like always, it was good, but the sad that hits sometimes after sex is pretty overwhelming. We lie there, quietly, more silent than usual afterwards.

===

A couple nights later, as we’re getting ready for bed, Dean brings up this award he won at work. Ugh, if he starts talking about Las Vegas again, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’m actually surprised he hasn’t brought it up again since the house is empty. Rio’s not wrong…it would be pretty easy to sell right now.

“Will you come?”

“Of course!” I mean, I am still his wife, and I’m very used to this kind of thing after being a car-wife in the Motor City. There are so many stupid awards in this town in that industry.

“Will you wear that dress?”

Oh for pete’s sake, just the thought of that thing makes me crinkle my nose. Why the hell is so obsessed with such a matronly dress? I mean…he _did_ think some of my wardrobe choices were too …extra…so I guess this is the kind of thing he finds sexy. Maybe he should have married a preacher’s kid or something.

“What dress?”

“The one you wore for him.”

His voice is low and gravelly, almost like Rio’s, but missing a very required edge. I blink at him for a moment; it’s not difficult to look as though I don’t understand, because I really don’t. But in that instant, almost on cue, Rio texts my phone and the buzz breaks my attention.

_Gotta see you. Bar. Now._

The first part makes me smile, especially since it’s after midnight on a weekday, so the staff room will probably be empty…I can’t do much to hide the blush in my cheeks but I try to damper the smile. Still, Dean sees it and his face falls.

It’s the second part that nags at me as I toss back the covers and pull on some clothes. It really doesn’t sound like this is a social call, no matter what I hope, so I don’t risk grabbing anything revealing while Dean is watching. And if I’m wrong, if it is a booty call, well then whatever I’m wearing will hopefully be off sooner rather than later.

There’s no one waiting for me when I pull up, but I park around the corner anyway. Pounding on the employee door, I stand there…in a dark alley…after midnight. Waiting.

Guess it’s business, not pleasure, then.

She walk through the front door, arms wrapped round herself an slow. She look from the bar to my table to my sushi to the money an sit down, weight forward, edge a her seat. I focus on my dinner so I ain’t do somethin I can’t take back.

Fact that she handed off that bullshit to me the same day as the last time we was here does _a lot_ ta splain why her whole mood was off that night. Ida been scared, too, if I’d known I’d tried to pass that garbage off as money.

The minutes stretch out as he eats his sushi, attacking each piece with a forcefulness that seems counter to success with chopsticks. Finally…fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinalllllllllllly, he gestures at the elephant that I’m perfectly aware of, and speaks without looking up.

“What’s that?”

I can’t stand the idea a lookin at her while she lie to me, but I can feel her hesitation, hear her try to pass off the lie. “Money,” she say all perky, like there ain’t nothin wrong.

He doesn’t even swallow what he’s forklifting into his mouth. “No.” Yeah, I had a feeling it wouldn’t fly. “Iss not.” What can I do? He knows me better, but big eyes and big tits buys a lot of room when it comes to ditzy innocence.

“Yeah it is!” She still all chipper. Fuckin insultin. If she was half as bimbo as she actin right now, she’da been benched and dead once I got bored wit her pussy. Only reason she still here because she’s smart and interestin. She should be smarter than to try to pass this over on me.

“Not money I can use.” He’s finally looking at me, and I can tell he’s pissed. We both know I’m lying; we both know I’m not stupid. But I started down this verbal path, and there’s mines on either side.

“Oh…” she get all casual, like she just remembered. “We had to change the formula.”

“Change it back,” his answer is so quick and his eyes are on his folded hands. Shit. That is never good.

There somethin she ain’t tellin me – an frankly, right now, I don care – but the sigh that come outta her tell me it’s big. “It’s not possible.” An I know it. She still don fuckin trust me. Stead askin for her cut, she just took it an pretended I wouldn notice. Stead a tellin me fuckin D-bag broke her engravin plate, she just dinnint deliver. Sometimes I gotta push her cuz she ain’t try hard enough, like when the shop-owner close down just cuz Lucy dead, but she gotta trust me first. This ain’t a partnership if she ain’t trust me to listen, an trust me to do what’s necessary when she fucks up.

I can see him taking this in, and I meet his eyes as his brain spins down some spiderweb that I’m not following. The way he inhales long and slow through his nose is never good, though. “Yanno…I been thinkin bout this… _relationship_ …a ours.” My mouth twitches and I have to hold my eyes steady as he looks at me full-on. “Lotta issues, you n me.”

Fuck.

So soon?

I hold her eyes an don’t look away, tho I gotta blink. Everythin just so fucked up right now. I gotta know what she willin to do to put things right. “I….” she draw it out then finish quick, “don’t disagree.” Surprising, kay.

He puts his bizness voice on, like it’s still supposed to scare me. I guess he has to try, just like I had to try the ditzy bit. “Cut you in – that dinnint work.” His head shakes and I try to keep my face neutral, while I’m relieved he means the professional aspects of our relationship. “Gun ta ya head, nuthin.” He looks back at his hands. “I dunno how ta incentivize you anymore.” More frightening than anything he’s said so far, his voice gets very quiet for a small, “So…”

I gotta trail off, cuz I realize I can’t say it. Plan B, then, an I catch my boy Mick’s eyes over at the bar. He slides in next ta my girl.

Fuck it, she still my girl, I gotta believe that for what’s next.

Wish Dags was here. He’d know what this do to me.

I can’t help it, I recoil a little from Mick, after having watched him eat those ribs. I just can’t. I wish Dags was here; he’d know how to keep Rio from doing anything like… fuck… offering me a gun from a padded envelope.

And he’d smell better while doing it. God.

“Open it.” Rio’s coming unraveled again. There’s a gun in here. Not his – just some standard black piece.

“I don’t get it.” Damn, she _still_ playin dumb? I gotta laugh at how ridiculous it is that she think this work.

His laugh is unnerving. What the hell is funny about handing me a gun. Does he know? Did he hear, or did Mick see us meet the Navy SEAL? “Take it out.”

“I don’t want it.” How many times I gotta ask this woman what make her think she got a choice when it comes to workin together?

“We got another job for you.” This is more punishment, isn’t it, for not shooting Boomer so long ago? Wasn’t the shit smell enough?

“Well, whatever it is, I donwanna do it.” Her syllables run together, like a real person, stead a that perfect momma she still pretendin to be. Then again, there she go with those choices again. It so fuckin funny I start laughin again. Mick eventually join in.

Sitting there with them both laughing at me, I hold fast to the illusion that I have a choice. I know how it’s going to end up, but that does not mean I won’t struggle. “Take it out, Elizabeth.” His voice is hard, but different than his usual ‘King’ tone. This time, he uses my name like I imagine he would when buckling down with Marcus; like I’m an errant child. It sounds enough like my folks at their most controlling that my hand obeys even though I’m still glaring daggers at him.

“Maybe you’re right,” he says, making me look up, immediately distrustful. His hands are spread out on his chest, dramatically. Oh, he’s making fun of me again. Great. “I’m the problem.” With a dare in his voice he continues, “Well go ahead an finish me off.” He really does know, doesn’t he. “If ya wanna.”

Gotta say, she smart enough to not ever grip the gun like she’d fire it. Her face fulla disgust as she pinch it between her thumb an finger. Not the best forensics, but at least I got a full print in there somewhere. I’m actually surprised she don’t take the chance to try an scare me back for all the times I pulled one on her. “We’re good.”

“Cool.” He knew I was never going to do it, but his point doesn’t hit me until he shoves a chopstick down the barrel and holds it out to Mick who puts it back in the mailer. “Thass what we used ta take carea yer friend, by the way.”

An she finally get it, as all the blood drain from her face. Sucks, dunnit? It’s late at night, she off her game. Her question more disbelievin rather than seekin info. “Why?”

I need to know – not why he made me touch it, that’s obvious – why he would manipulate me like this. Why he had the capacity to put me directly in danger when we are so deeply entangled both professionally and personally. But then again, this is the man who couldn’t stand being broken up, so he sent me body parts until I agreed to see him again. So are there any surprises left when it comes to why he does what he does? I know he hears the subtext, so I’m not sure which question he’s answering when he says, “Incentive.”

It’s wrong, but I don try to hold back the smile on my face as she think about all the ways I got her now.

==

The next night, I emerge from the bedroom half-zipped, putting in my second earring. Maybe it’s not fair, experts say not to test your spouse in order to compare them to others, but I wait to see how long it will take Dean to get the hint. Cool air hits my back as both he and his gay friend objectify me in my demure-but-envied-dress. Finally, I have to ask him to zip me up.

When he replies, “With pleasure,” I can’t help but think if it pleased him so much, he would have already thought to do it. Maybe I’m not generous enough; after all, it is his night. But the comparison stands there even though he has no idea it’s being made.

I find myself so disappointed, that I’m actually glad to get a text that calls me away – even if it isn’t Rio.

It’s the little things.

==

But the next afternoon…it’s the big things.

When he tells me he quit his job, I can’t help but compare the two again…on many levels. The biggest one, of all things, being that Rio would know that I was holding back my rage even though my “Why?” is delivered with calm innocence.

Rio would see that the anger on my face wasn’t because Dean is admitting to almost-cheating; it’s because once again, at a time when we absolutely cannot afford fuckups, D-bag just dropped the bag, again, and the contents of my life are spilling everywhere, rolling down the street, into the gutters, and being lost forever. Or eaten by a shape-shifting clown. Or just covered in sewage and shit.

And this pathetic, dramatic protestation of love isn’t what I want from him right now. I want him to prove he cares by fucking having my back. If that means not telling me stupid shit when we are both working low-paying jobs and having zero belongings and our kids can’t even live with us… if it means staying in a bad situation because we need the paycheck…

Actions speak louder than words, Dean, and if you wanted me, you would help support us. You say you want me to need things from you, but every day you show me another way that I can't count on you.

The only thing I know is that if he _and_ the kids end up at Judith’s together, there is little to no chance I will ever see my kids again. This empty house will be the sinking ship, and I will be the only rat left on board. Between Judith’s opinionated mouth and the legal aspects of separation…

“Dean…” Dammit.

“Yeah?” Look at his face, he thinks this is about him.

I can feel the utter resignation settle in the vacuum left by the deep sigh I breathe out.

Something else Rio would see and recognize.

“Don’t go.”


End file.
